


Southern Comfort

by MadameCissy



Category: Major Crimes (TV), The Closer
Genre: Extramarital Affairs, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 13:16:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5006191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameCissy/pseuds/MadameCissy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharon could only think of one place to go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Southern Comfort

_How could I have known  
That every feeling swallowed inside  
Would just keep glowing_

_Melissa Etheridge – A Little Hard Heartened_

Brenda switched off the TV and carried the empty wineglass and popcorn bowl to the kitchen. Heaven forbid she left them out on the coffee table and Fritz would have to put them away in the morning. She rolled her eyes at her husband's behaviour, releasing a sigh in relief over the fact he had gone to bed two hours ago and had left her to indulge herself after a 14 hour day.

They barely spent time together these days. Brenda knew most of that was her own doing. She couldn't stand to be trapped between these walls anymore. They felt like they were closing in on her, ready to crush her. Although the Turrel Baylor lawsuit had been dismissed in court and the federal lawsuit dropped - but not without creating the Johnson Rule- Brenda still didn't feel like she could breathe. She felt suffocated, strangled, and nowhere more so than at home.

Fritz pretended nothing had changed. He just picked up the pieces of their life and carried on living. He didn't care that Pope and Goldman and even Gavin had sold her out, had thrown her under the bus to protect and shield only themselves. He was just glad to see it all come to an end and he insisted that the Johnson Rule wasn't 'so bad'. Brenda snorted. It wasn't his name tied in to some rule that had been created just to remind her every day of what had happened. Even Sharon Raydor, the woman she had hated in the months leading up to the conclusion but who had turned out to be her unlikeliest of allies, had felt it was unfair but her own husband didn't care.

Brenda rinsed the wine glass out so it wouldn't stain and left it to dry on the side. She then emptied the few bits of popcorn into the trash and placed the bowl in the sink. She took the box with cat food from the top of the fridge and dropped a handful in Joel's bowl. He didn't come scurrying into the kitchen like he usually did and she suspected he was asleep on her husband's feet on the bed.

"Traitor," she hissed as she put the box back in its place.

She was about to turn off the kitchen light when she heard the light knock on the front door. Her eyes darted to her watch. 11.24. Who turned up at this hour?

Brenda walked through the kitchen to the laundry room and opened the door. There, on her doorstep, stood Sharon Raydor; her face was illuminated by the faint yellow glow from the street lamp at the end of the drive. She'd pushed her hands into the pocket of her black trench coat. It appeared to be a habit, Brenda had noticed. Sharon seemed momentarily caught between staying and fleeing.

"Chief."

Sharon looked genuinely surprised Brenda had answered the door. Her gaze dropped from the blondes face down to her legs. Brenda noticed the way a smile tugged at Sharon's lips when she saw the bright pink pyjamas and light blue slippers and couldn't help but smile herself. Sharon's gaze then slowly drifted back up, briefly taking in the white tank top that clung to Brenda's upper body and then the damp curls, a left over from the shower she took an hour earlier.

Brenda cocked her head a little. She hadn't missed the way Sharon's eyes had roamed over her body and she slightly pursed her lips.

"Capt'n."

Sharon thought that if Brenda was shocked or surprised she'd turned up on her doorstep without warning and this late at night, she did a very good job at hiding it. She fumbled with the inside lining of her pocket. The seam had come undone and she was pulling at the loose piece of fabric.

"Are... Are you ok?" Brenda questioned. She had yet to take her eyes off Sharon's face and she could see the dark lines around her eyes where her eyeliner had smudged after a day that had clearly been too long. The one thing she would never have expected was to see the brunette standing on her doorstep.

"Cap... Sharon, is everythin' alright?"

"I... uhm..." Sharon almost felt embarrassed and averted her eyes. The pain she felt, the ache inside her bones, was what had driven her here. The thought of going home and facing the night alone had felt unbearable. She needed to be somewhere where she wasn't going to be alone with the demons inside her head and this, Brenda's doorstep, had been the best thing she could come up with.

She was officially pathetic.

She and Brenda weren't exactly best friends but they had moved away from being enemies some time ago. The lawsuits had brought them closer together. Brenda had realised Sharon was the only person trying to protect her throughout the whole ordeal and Sharon had learnt to understand Brenda a little bit better. Brenda was perhaps stubborn and obnoxious and was used to getting her way but at the same time she was devoted, incredibly intelligent and determined. They were traits Sharon appreciated in a person. At the same time Brenda had begun to understand that sometimes sticking to the rules wasn't as bad as she thought it was, although she doubted she would ever become like Sharon Raydor herself.

Brenda's features softened when she noticed the empty look in Sharon's eyes and she reached out a hand, placed it softly and tenderly on Sharon's forearm. She had seen that look before, in the eyes of cops who had faced too much darkness for one day. She'd caught herself staring at her own reflection a couple of times like that too.

"Sharon? Sharon, what happened?"

"I had a rough day and I just... I didn't really know where else to go because home felt like the wrong place but I could only drive around town for so long and..." Sharon's voice faltered a little. "I'm sorry, Chief. It's late and I shouldn't have come here."

She went to turn but Brenda's grip on her arm tightened.

"Brenda."

Sharon blinked. "What?"

"If you're gonna turn up on my doorstep at midnight, you may as well call me Brenda."

"Ok. Brenda." Sharon tested the name. It felt strange. Brenda had always just been 'Chief Johnson' to her.

Brenda took a step aside and gestured into the kitchen. The light was still on and she noticed Joel had appeared after all. He sat by his food bowl and suspiciously eyed up the stranger standing in the doorway.

"Do you want to come in?"

"Would you mind terribly if I said I'd rather stay outside? I've seen the inside of a house for most of the evening and I really don't want to be surrounded by walls right now."

"Ok. Then how about I come outside instead?"

Brenda grabbed her keys without thinking twice and closed the door behind her. She stood facing Sharon for a moment, unsure about how to proceed next. The brunette looked back at her, somewhat surprised, and then Brenda smiled. It was a tentative, nervous smile. She took a couple of steps forward and sat down at the top step on the porch. She waited until Sharon sat down beside her. There was just enough room for the two of them but their knees touched anyway and Brenda felt a warm feeling deep down in her stomach.

It was a warm night and the temperature had dropped since that afternoon. It had been a scorching hot day, like most days in the middle of a Los Angeles summer, and the city had breathed a sigh of relief when darkness fell and some of the heat disappeared. But even though it was close to midnight, the wind was still warm and even when just wearing pyjamas, Brenda wasn't cold.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Brenda asked softly and looked at Sharon from the corner of her eye.

It felt odd to be the one asking Sharon if she wanted to talk. In recent months it had always been Sharon who had asked her that and Brenda, after refusing for weeks, finally started to open up. It was nice to talk to someone other than Fritz, especially because Sharon understood things fritz didn't. She would let Brenda finish without interrupting her, without telling her what she felt Brenda needed to do or say next. Sometimes she would just sit in silence but Brenda wouldn't feel rejected. Sometimes neither of them talked because just being in Sharon's company often was enough.

The older woman was staring at her hands. "Officer involved shooting," was all she said. Her voice was soft, softer than Brenda had ever heard it.

She knew there had to be more to it. Sharon worked officer involved shootings all the time. It was a big part of what FID did. The division investigated violence - or suspected violence- by police officers, which included an investigation anytime an office discharged his or her weapon.

She kept her eyes trained on Sharon and then she knew. She saw it. She saw that look, the look she had seen in the eyes of the people in her own division when they saw something no person should ever have to see. The evil of mankind, the darkness of humanity.

"Oh Sharon," Brenda whispered and put a hand on Sharon's arm. Her fingers tingled. "How bad?"

"The worst."

Sharon swallowed. It didn't push the sour tasting bile in the back of her throat away. It didn't help settle the aching in her body. Tears burnt behind her eyes and it surprised her. It was rare for her to get emotional at crime scenes. She didn't allow herself to be vulnerable. She couldn't. She investigated other officers, people who were her colleagues. There was no room for her own thoughts and feelings, she didn't allow her own emotions to potentially cloud her judgment. She'd learnt over the years to close herself off and now it came natural to her. She just did it, without thinking. She knew it was the reason people called her the Ice Queen behind her back. She'd stopped caring a long time ago.

But today... Today she had been confronted by the worst kind of human depravity possible. She had stood over the body of a child. It was the one thing she had hoped, prayed, she would never have to see but today had been the day she wished would never come. The boy, aged just seven, wasn't the innocent victim of a police shoot out gone wrong but he was the victim of his father's own rage.

The 911 call that reported the sound of gunfire coming from the home had been made by a neighbour. The officer that responded had found two women and a child dead inside the house, all with bullet wounds to the head. He'd found the suspect still armed in the backyard. The standoff was still ongoing by the time Sharon and her team arrived and they had watched and waited from behind their car doors, guns drawn and wearing their bulletproof vests. She'd heard her own heart pound inside her chest, had felt the adrenaline pump through her veins. Her index finger had been hooked around the trigger. In the end a single gunshot rang out and it was over.

But for Sharon it had only just begun. She had to go inside the house and found the officer's estranged wife and mother-in-law in the kitchen, each with a gunshot wound to the head. The blood had pooled over the kitchen floor. A cup of coffee has shattered onto the floor and the liquid had blended in with the blood. The scene had been heart breaking but it wasn't until she reached the boy's bedroom and found him on his bed with the comic book he'd been reading still half wedged between his fingers that something broke inside her. She'd turned around and stepped back into the hallway and for the first time in her career as an FID officer she'd said, "I need a moment."

Sharon looked down when she realised Brenda's hand was still on her arm. It felt comforting and warm. She hadn't gone home because there would just be quietness there. Many nights she welcomed the silence of her condo but tonight... Tonight she didn't want to be alone. She needed someone to talk to, someone to listen to her.

"I'm sorry, Sharon," Brenda quietly whispered. She swivelled until she could face Sharon properly. Their knees touched again. The contrast between Brenda's pink pyjamas and Sharon's black slacks was striking. "Are you sure you don't want to come in? I could make some coffee?"

Sharon shook her head and in a way Brenda was relieved. She didn't want to go back inside either. There was something nice about sitting out on the porch in the dark with Sharon. Here they were just two people, they were not Deputy Chief Johnson and Captain Raydor, but just Brenda and Sharon. Going back inside would change that because Fritz was inside and if he woke up, he would call Sharon 'Captain Raydor' and it wouldn't be the same anymore.

Brenda frowned to herself. When had she started thinking of Sharon as Sharon instead of Captain Raydor? And when had they reached the point where they ended up sitting out on the top step of her porch in the middle of the night?

"He was only seven years old."

Sharon said it so quietly that Brenda could have sworn she'd imagined it.

"He was only seven." Sharon ran her fingers through her hair and cradled her head in her hands.

Brenda scooted closer until she was sitting right next to Sharon and her arm slipped around the older woman's shoulders. She pulled her closer and Sharon willingly let her.

"The children are always the hardest," Brenda whispered. She had seen too many cases herself. It was a kind of pain she would never wish on anyone. Some of the things they saw every day no person should have to see. "You never get used to it and... And that's a good thing. Because that way you keep your humanity."

She fingered a strand of Sharon's hair. It was soft, just like she'd imagined. It slipped through her fingers effortlessly and she repeated the motion, picking up another strand. Sharon didn't stir under her touch, just rested against Brenda's body. Brenda's fingers grazed over Sharon's scalp in an attempt to pick up another strand of hair. The touch was intimate and yet it felt completely familiar.

"Whenever I have questioned why I do the job I do, it's because of the way FID is looked at. There are only so many dark stares and whispers any one can take before it gets to you." Sharon sighed. "But after today, after seeing that little boy, I am not sure why I still do this job."

Brenda answered, "Because someone has to."

"Is that why you're still in Major Crimes?" Sharon lifted her head up from her hands and her green eyes searched Brenda's face. "Don't you ever wonder when enough is enough? How much more death, how many more dead bodies in the morgue? Have you ever thought about just walking away?"

"I have," Brenda admitted but her eyes had darkened. "But not yet." Her voice was soft and low, almost menacing.

Curious, Sharon narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

"Not until Philip Stroh is safely locked up in a jail cell and I can throw away the key."

Sharon didn't answer. They continued to sit in silence, closely together and with Brenda's hand still running through Sharon's hair. Sharon's fingers crept up along Brenda's leg until they reached her thigh and came to a stop there. For a second nothing happened but then Sharon's index finger began drawing small circles and Brenda looked down at Sharon's hand on her bright pink pyjama pants. Her stomach turned itself into a knot.

A car drove down the street and its headlights briefly lit up both their faces. Neither of them moved and the light passed after a second. In that moment Brenda noticed that Sharon had parked her car across the street, just far enough away from the house that it couldn't be seen from the bedroom window. She wondered how long Sharon had been sitting there before knocking the door.

Sharon moved beside her and Brenda looked up.

"I should go," Sharon muttered and went to stand up. Her hand fell away from Brenda's leg but the blonde grabbed it, causing Sharon to look at her. "Brenda, it's after midnight. I... I shouldn't have come here. I'm sorry."

"Don't go." Brenda was surprised by her own words. "Sharon."

She didn't want to be alone. Not tonight. Not anymore. Her fingers had closed around Sharon's wrist but they now dropped a little further until she held Sharon's hand. She looked up at the brunette with wide eyes. "Please."

Sharon hesitated. She didn't know why she had come here of all places tonight. She'd regretted the decision as soon as she'd stepped onto the porch and knocked the door but it had been too late. She'd never let her feelings control her but tonight she'd been weak and now she regretted it and resented herself for it.

"Brenda..."

Brenda stood up too, still holding Sharon's hand. "Why did you come here?"

She had to know. She wanted to hear it.

"I... I needed someone to talk to."

"You said you didn't know where else to go." Brenda took a step closer to Sharon, could almost feel the heat from the other woman's body. She didn't let go of Sharon's hand and continued to hold her gaze. "What brought you here?"

Sharon tore her eyes away from Brenda. This was a mistake. "I have to go."

"No, wait," Brenda pleaded. "Do you think I would have sat out here with anyone else but you?"

Sharon stared at Brenda, surprised at that statement.

Brenda knew she wouldn't have sat out here with Fritz. They didn't even sit on the couch together anymore. They barely spoke ten words to each other most nights and went to bed separately, sometimes even in separate rooms. She had sat out here with Sharon and in their silence they had said more than she and Fritz had said to each other with actual words in months.

Something shifted between them, something in the air. It had been there for a long time, crackling like electricity, but they had both chosen to ignore it, pretend it wasn't real. They couldn't deny it anymore. Sharon had come here because Brenda was the only safe place she could think of, the only person she could think of. She had come here because she wanted, needed, to see Brenda, the same way she had walked into the Murder Room a handful of times when she felt particularly frustrated because somehow being around Brenda calmed her down.

"Brenda..."

Sharon didn't get a chance to finish the sentence she had started because suddenly Brenda's lips were on hers and she kissed her. She could taste the wine and the popcorn and even a distant hint of chocolate. And Sharon fell. She fell deeper and faster than she had ever fallen before. She fell into Brenda's arms and allowed Brenda to catch her.

Brenda's eyes closed when she finally felt and tasted Sharon. In that moment the whole world, and the fact that all her neighbours could see her kiss someone who wasn't her husband, just faded into the background. She didn't care who saw her, she didn't want to think about what would happen a few hours from now when the sun would rise and she would have to reflect on her actions in the cold harsh light of day.

Brenda's hands were on Sharon's hips, her fingers digging into the soft flesh, and Sharon's hands became tangled in thick blonde curls. She let out a soft groan when Brenda nibbled on her lower lip before sucking it into her mouth. Sharon's nails grazed over Brenda's scalp. She let the tip of her tongue follow the shape of Brenda's lower lip before letting it slip into Brenda's mouth. Brenda met her tongue and for a few seconds she seemed to want to establish dominance but then she relaxed and allowed Sharon to take control.

Sharon's hands roamed from Brenda's hair down to her shoulders and her back and found the hem of the flimsy tank top she was wearing. Her hands crept up underneath it, caressing the soft and warm skin of Brenda's back. She let out a soft gasp when Brenda's hand boldly cupped a breast through her blazer but Sharon felt her nipple harden underneath the layers of fabric.

"Brenda," Sharon hummed when they momentarily parted. Brenda's lips were now attacking the side of her neck. "Brenda, the whole street can see us."

"I don't care."

Sharon grabbed Brenda's hand and pulled her back up on the porch. Brenda slammed her back against the side of the house, the bricks cold against her shoulders. Now they were out of view from anyone who happened to pass and with dark, heavy lidded eyes, Brenda looked at Sharon, who had pressed herself against Brenda's body, pinning her down. She went to kiss her but Sharon merely smirked.

"Now, Chief Johnson," she husked as she let her index finger slide over Brenda's lips. She enjoyed the sight of Brenda being trapped far more than she thought she would. Her other hand inched it way up over Brenda's stomach. "One step at a time..."

Brenda sucked Sharon's finger into her mouth and circled it with her tongue. If Sharon was going to tease her, she was going to tease her right back. She watched closely how Sharon's pupils widened until almost all the green of her eyes had disappeared and saw how Sharon licked her own lips. Sharon felt the arousal pool between her legs.

She leaned in and kissed Brenda, hard. The Chief eagerly answered the kiss and whimpered when Sharon pressed her knee between her legs. She clutched at Sharon's blazer and managed to slide it down her shoulders. It fell in a messy pile at their feet. Their tongues danced around each other in a passionate display of desire and Sharon's fingers grazed over Brenda's breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra and Sharon felt hard nipples press against the palm of her hand. Brenda groaned softly.

"I want you," Brenda breathed into Sharon's ear. "God, I want you, Sharon."

Sharon had never heard anything more sensual than those words and as she kissed her way from Brenda's mouth to her neck, she whispered, "We're going to have to work some things out."

"I know." Brenda didn't even stop to think about her marriage. She fingered the hem of Sharon's shirt. "But I can make it happen."

On the other side of the house a light was switched on and the two women jumped apart instantly. The bedroom window was now illuminated and Brenda groaned in frustration.

"I should go," Sharon reluctantly whispered, her eye still on the illuminated window.

"Tomorrow night," Brenda breathed as she clutched at Sharon's hand. She wanted to feel her for as long as she could. "Your place." Brown eyes connected with green. "No questions."

Sharon nodded, leaned in and quickly pecked Brenda on her lips before turning around and disappearing down the garden path. She walked towards her car and looked back before opening the driver's side door. She waved and Brenda waved back.

A couple of minutes later she was gone and Brenda sank back down on the front step. She then saw Sharon's blazer still on the floor and she pulled it towards her, wrapped it around her shoulders and her eyes fluttered shut. Sharon's perfume filled her nose and she rubbed her face against the fabric.

She heard Fritz on the other side of the door. Heard the doorknob turn but he never came out. She knew he was standing there, listening and waiting, although she wasn't sure what for. He knew she was out here; he'd probably checked the guest bedroom first. After a couple of minutes she heard him walk away again and the light in the bedroom was switched back off. Darkness once again fell over the house.

Brenda remained on the front porch step, wrapped up in Sharon's blazer and Sharon's smell for another hour, and when she finally went inside, she walked past the master bedroom. She listened, could hear her husband snore, and hesitated. She shook her head and quietly walked to the bedroom across the hall and climbed into the guest bed. The sheets were crisp and soft and wrapped her up into a soft cocoon.

She fell asleep with Sharon's scent still lingering on her skin.


End file.
